#Auren Hux

[creepycreepyspacewizard]

Modern Emperors

[Auren Hux & Eamon Hux from Modern Emperors]

who hogs the duvetI don’t think Eamon has a duvet? They’re pretty much sprawled wherever.

who texts/rings to check how their day is goingEamon plays with his phone more, Auren loses track of time.

who’s the most creative when it comes to giftsAuren is creative in a terrifying and sometimes regrettable way.

who gets up first in the morningTechnically Eamon but just because Auren never goes to bed in the first place. It’s been four days dude, go to bed.

who suggests new things in bedThey’re equally creative but Auren is more interested in quantity than quality at times.

who cries at moviesNeither of them, but Auren shouts at idiots in sci-fi movies sometimes.

who gives unprompted massagesEamon because Auren’s joints are made of concrete (go to bed Auren).

who fusses over the other when they’re sickAuren freaks the fuck out when Eamon is sick and once tried to quarantine himself in the snow when he had the flu. Eamon doesn’t need any of this shit.

who gets jealous easiestAuren does not like anyone else fucking Eamon but otherwise hes very happy to share.

who has the most embarrassing taste in musicEamon is eternally embarrassed by Auren’s love of literally anything.

who collects something unusualAuren has hoarding tendencies, there’s a huge amount of food under his bed and at one point he was collecting scrap metal from other peoples bins. .

who takes the longest to get readyEamon 100% Auren doesn’t understand why theres more than one bottle of soap in the bathroom.

who is the most tidy and organisedEamon is well put together while Auren is tidy in public spaces and an absolute slob elsewhere.

who gets most excited about the holidaysAuren doesn’t understand holidays, Eamon’s probably not that bothered until they have BB at which point it turns into a comedy of errors.

who is the big spoon/little spoonIt’s more like a disorganised cutlery drawer depending on who is in bed with them.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sportsAuren is an absolute fucking nightmare when it comes to anything he can win.

who starts the most argumentsTwo Huxes in the same house? They’ll both deny starting it but they’ll both want to finish it.

who suggests that they buy a petI can’t imagine either of them having a pet. BB probably wants a dog like the one Charon watches sometimes.

what couple traditions they haveDressing up in identical outfits and scaring the shit out of people. Hunting together. Hunting each other. 

what tv shows they watch togetherI’m not sure Auren would understand most TV shows.

what other couple they hang out withThey’re pretty close to Phasma & Ares (Ares being BB’s mom) and there’s a odd relationship with Dex & Mitaka thats probably as close as they get to friends.

how they spend time together as a coupleAssassinating people for money, building a business empire, looking good.

who made the first moveAuren bought Eamon a drink in a bar.

who brings flowers homeEamon brought a plant home from the woods once, does that count? Auren isn’t sure what the point of non-edible plants is.

who is the best cookEamon by far, Auren can only just manage mac&cheese.

Facts About Pairings

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

Happy Halloween! Since I can’t take part in Huxloween properly this year I thought I’d share ten of the spooky/weird stories I’ve written for Kylux in the past. [Many of these came before Armitage Day so please excuse the names!]

The Eldritch Effect - [Supernatural Horror Comedy] (WIP) After meeting in hospital Hux & Kylo have been tooling around the US in a vintage car, looking for the strange and unusual... Phasma’s home town might be the weirdest place yet. [Rated: E]

The Shack In The Forest - [Horror Comedy] Hux has heard some strange stories about this particular cabin, but Kylo can’t take anything seriously.  [Rated: T]

Bed and Breakfast - [Supernatural Comedy] Kylo & Hux are having a lot of fun celebrating their first wedding anniversary. Until they realise they're not alone...  [Rated: E]

Everything Starts Somewhere - [Supernatural Comedy] Hux has finally written a book about his adventures with Kylo Ren. The only problem is that everyone thinks it is fiction. Except the person who will be interviewing him today. They know all about the paranormal. Perhaps Hux has a new story to tell? [Rated: M]

Laeti Vescimur Nos Subacturis - [Dark Comedy] The Addams Family In Space AU. Snoke ships it. Time for an arranged marriage, some epic space battles and a lot of shenanigans.  [Rated: E]

Ultraviolence - [Sci-Fi Horror] What happens when the repressed ascetic monk Kylo Ren becomes obsessed with the sadist General Hux?  [Rated: E]

Dominion Day - [Supernatural] An Angel of War falls in love with a fragile human General, but all is not as it seems. [Rated: T]

Summoning - [Magical PWP] Witch Hux summons a tentacle monster for consentacle play [Rated: E]

Ascending The Throne - [Adventure Comedy] The coup doesn't go entirely as they had planned. [Rated: M]

What Returns From No Man's Land - [WW1 Horror] (WIP) The horror of the trenches blends with the drama of Hux’ old life until he can’t tell past from present or illusion from reality. While a Canadian Corporal called Ben Solo offers him comfort, another darker figure haunts his dreams... [Rated: E]

[sinningsquire]

The Modern Emperors (+Phasma) doing a glam photoshoot. 

I implore @creepycreepyspacewizard or @huxplicit to write a dialogue to this because I imagine there goes a lot of bitching behind the scenes of this :-D

[creepycreepyspacewizard]

sometimes I'm just overcome with how much I love Auren. I mean, I love all of your Huxes, but I have a special connection with that mess. He's so delightfully fucked up but if you give him the right environment, he's also charming and sweet. I just. I just fucking LOVE Auren.

Auren Hux would be a one trick pony without Eamon Hux.

I mean, in the original Ultraviolence fic verse Auren and Kylo would have just been awful together forever (rather than the new 2.8million years haha). By the time Lieutenant-General Hux became General Hux he was an irredeemable monster. Maybe it was developing Starkiller, maybe it was just four more years of doing whatever the hell he wanted to prisoners, maybe it was four more years of sycophant crew members or maybe it was just four extra years of shitty rations. But LTG Auren Hux was brought low, as low as he could possibly get (again, since he was almost reliving his childhood but in a cultural backwater) and Eamon pulled him out of it.

Eamon is a killer, theres no two ways about that. They had fun together that first night, a hell of a lot of fun together, but what was there to stop Eamon just cutting his throat when he found out Auren was still in town and fucking up his image? At some point Auren must have woken up in a cold sweat in Eamon’s bed with the crystal clear revelation that if HE’D found Eamon wandering around The Finalizer in a sleep deprived haze Auren would have undoubtedly spaced him. But Eamon brought him home, cleaned him up, let Auren tell him an insane-but-true story and then… let him stay. They became Likenesses because Eamon let Auren stay. They became the other half of each other’s soul because EAMON LET AUREN STAY. They married and had a kid and built an empire that improved a billion lives BECAUSE EAMON LET AUREN STAY.

Doesn’t matter what Eamon’s opinion is on that, or how he rationalises it to Auren- it is an absolute. Auren is still an awful fucker but he’s only as good as he is because Eamon let him in and kept him.

Eamon isn’t even consciously the driving force behind Auren’s good deeds but the fact that Eamon even gives a singular fuck about him is the reason Auren does anything at all.

If Eamon hadn’t cared then Auren would have died in that gutter or in the next, if Eamon had patched him up and tossed him out Auren would be an Dark Emperor on a throne of skulls by now. But Eamon let him stay. He gave the broken traumatised lost murder boy a place to stay and arms to lay in, and look how far he could go. All because of Eamon.

I fucking love Eamon Hux.

[creepycreepyspacewizard]

Auren loves St. Patrick's Day this year, he knows to treat it more like an orgy starring himself. Then someone pinches him for wearing all black. And that's why the club on 8th street burned down. Eamon doesn't want to talk about it. Especially since he liked their fried pickles.

Ahahahahahaha that’s what you get for looking like a bobble-headed Leprechaun Hux! He’s never going to get the hang of these crazy earth customs.

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

"No, you gave that to BB for their 15th birthday." "Ha! I distinctly recall you presenting it to BB for completing primary school." "I'm not going to give a child a huge knife." "Such a pity that your memory is leaving at this age." "BB!" "Hey, Dad, what's up?" "When did you receive this knife?" "I dunno... I stole that out of a cupboard when I was like six." "So. You've lied to us all these years?" "I didn't lie. I just never felt the need to correct you." "This is your child, Auren."

[This relates to this amazing knife here. BB is Eamon and Auren’s NB kid in the Modern Emperors verse. They deliberately don’t know which of them is BB’s father, not that DNA testing would actually tell them anything anyway.]

The weirdly organic looking Damascus steel blade sat in the middle of the coffee table glinting dully. Auren had perfected the art of making the multicoloured folded steel years ago and this particular example was shaped to resemble a lighting bolt. It’d do a lot of damage in the wrong (or right) hands. 

Which made it odd that they’d found it just sticking out of BB’s backpack that sat abandoned on the kitchen counter now their child was home for the winter holidays. Surely BB knew better than to take something like that to college, even if it was technically BB’s property. Which is definitely was... it was just that neither of them remembered how it had ended up in BB’s possession. 

"No, you gave that to BB for their 15th birthday." Auren said with a shake of his head.

"Ha!” Eamon jabbed a finger at him. “I distinctly recall you presenting it to BB for completing primary school." 

"I'm not going to give a child a huge knife." He wouldn’t have either. The balance would have been all wrong. Skinny underdeveloped wrists could never have wielded it properly. He’d have give BB something lighter. 

Eamon sneered. "Such a pity that your memory is leaving at this age."

Clearly this was an argument that wouldn’t be settled easily. Auren turned towards the door to the basement. "BB!" 

There was the thunder of teenage feet up the stairs and BB poked their head around the door, too long hair half covering their eyes. "Hey, Dad, what's up?"

BB still addressed them as one entity. Half the time Auren wondered if maybe they were right on that count. However this wasn’t one of those times.

He pointed at the coffee table. "When did you receive this knife?" 

"I dunno...” BB said with a shrug. They ran their fingers through their hair in a very Eamon-like gesture. “I stole that out of a cupboard when I was like six." 

Auren blinked. He really hadn’t expected that answer. "So. You've lied to us all these years?" 

The question made BB roll their eyes and lean on the door frame with a pout. "I didn't lie. I just never felt the need to correct you." 

Eamon clapped his Likeness on the back. "This is your child, Auren."

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

Writing prompts: The following are suggestions, feel free to pick and choose: 47 - your rarepair, 57 - kylux, 79 - modern emperors

47: “You’re cute when you’re angry.” The burly Stormtrooper Sergeant said with a nasty grin. “Like a lothkitten spitting because I took its toy away.”

The other stormtroopers laughed. It wasn’t a nice sound. Something about it made the hairs on the back of Matt’s neck stand on end.

Usually he tried to ignore the jerks and get on with his job but this time he abandoned his tools to peer out of the grating.

Seven stormtroopers were blocking the corridor. A waifish figure in a Petty Officer’s uniform was shaking with rage while they loomed over him. Matt would know those gelled locks anywhere.

The Sergeant raised a gauntlet covered fist.

“Hey! Don’t hurt him!” Matt shouted.

“Oh, look!” The Sergeant sneered. “Is that worthless radar tech really going to save y… argh! Fuck! You little shit, you broke my no…. ARGH!!”

Matt shook his head as the Sergeant went down bleeding and screaming under 107lbs of pent up fury.

“Oh babe, you’re going to end up on a charge again,” he sighed.

57: Hux had specifically asked that fire and evac drills not be run during his sleep cycle. He was absolutely certain he’d given that order.

Once he was back in his quarters he’d have to contact ops and rip someone to shreds.

It wasn’t that he didn’t respect the need for emergency simulations. He of all people knew how important they were. It was just… undignified.

Standing at the muster point in his pfassking sleepwear with random crew members pretending not to look at his bare legs and narrow shoulders and then Ren, godsdamn Kylo Ren looking like terror personified in robes and helmet, made everything worse by asking-

“Is that my shirt?”

Hux felt his whole body blush. It was. And his boxers too.

79: Sharing a bed was a weirdly unfamiliar sensation. It shouldn’t have been.

From the fall of Arkanis until he became a cadet Hux had been used to bedding down wherever there was space and warmth. There had been sleep cycles where they’d slept five or six children to a mattress just to keep from freezing if the atmospherics failed.

Even after he’d graduated up to the guaranteed bunks of the dormitories doubling up had still regularly been necessary for survival. But that had been years ago.

He’d been in solo quarters for nearly a decade and however many lovers passed between his sheets they never, ever stayed.

Come to think of it- Hux had never meant to stay here either.

It had just happened once, after a long and thrilling night on the hunt. Then it had happened again a month later when they were both too sore and tired to move. Then with increasing regularity until somehow he had a preferred side of the bed. His knives were in the bedside table, his clothes were in the closet.

There were still some things in ‘his’ room- personal knick knacks and dangerous experiments by equal measure- but his day to day needs were right here.

An icy cold hand settled between his shoulder blades.

Yes everything he needed was right here.

The hand shoved him, hard, while the sheets were tugged away.

“Stop hogging all the blankets!”

Well, at least there was no risk of falling too deeply into gooey sentimentality.

With a speed his Likeness probably didn’t expect, Hux rolled over to pin the blanket liberator to the mattress.

Beneath him Hux- the other Hux, Eamon, his Likeness, his other, his sphalerite- glared up at him through bloodshot eyes.

“If you were cold you had only to say,” Auren purred, “I can think of a dozen ways to warm you up.”

“Oh fuck off and let me sleep.” It was more of a mumble than a proper protest, though the elbow aimed at his windpipe made Eamon’s seriousness quite clear.

Auren shrugged and rolled away enough to lay beside Eamon. 

“That was always an option.” He said quietly as he manhandled the identical but different body of his Likeness so they lay back to chest.

“Bullshit.” Eamon said through a yawn.

Settling his hand on the slight outline of Eamon’s abs Auren kissed his neck. “Just you watch me, I’ll let you sleep for a whole twelve hours unmolested.”

“Do you think I can’t feel you poking my thigh?”

“I’m not doing anything with it, am I?” Auren muttered. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

Sharing a bed felt strange. Holding a lover close with no intention of doing more than sleep felt very, very weird. But oddly pleasant. Perhaps he could get used to it. He was getting used to everything else.

Of all the new experiences this backwards planet had given him- this was one he wouldn’t be willing to give up.

Nearly 200 Writing Prompts

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

An Evening's Entertainment by GenerallyHuxurious

For @huxplicit | Rated - Explicit | Words - 6,324 | Read it now on AO3

Two versions of Hux, one city, four hours, four targets to be assassinated. One of their targets is 'The Other Hux'. Who will win?

This is why Hux should NEVER be allowed to be bored...

Part 12 of Modern Emperors a Hux/Hux canon meets modern assassin AU.

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Huxcest, Self-cest, Multiple Selves, AU Crossover, Mistaken Identity, Confusion, Boredom, Modern Assassins, Murder Husbands, Electrocution, Poisoning, Car Accidents, Well Not An ACCIDENT, Gambling, Fist Fights, Play Fighting, Minor Character Death, Stabbing, Broken Bones, Flirting, Bad Flirting, Cultural Differences, Canon Hux Tries His Best, Sexual Frustration

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

39, Modern Emperors

[39. “How long have you been standing there?”]Dancing hadn’t been a part of the space refugee curriculum. It wasn’t something he understood.

Eamon was so good at it. He could lure anyone he wanted in the world with just the way his body followed the beat. Auren had a rhythm all his own, but it needed proximity and fewer clothes to be effective.

Still, there was something to this ‘Spotify’ business. It kept him alert when the caff stopped working. Especially since Eamon had taken away the meds he’d found.

He was shuffling around his office- in what he thought was a fair impression of Eamon’s skills- waiting for the latest model to render when he heard a soft chuckle at the doorway.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Oh not nearly long enough. I was hoping you’d do the thing with your ass again.”

Auren flushed and looked away.

“Hey, I liked the thing with your ass!” Eamon grinned. “How about I come in there and you can teach me?”

“Fuck you.”

“Only if you’ve got time.”

Send Me Drabble Prompts

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

20. or 38. for Modern Emperors, if you feel like it :)

[20. “Just admit I’m right.”]

Eamon sighed. It was 4am. He didn’t need this argument in his life at this hour of the morning, nor did he need this smell in his kitchen. It wasn’t bad as such, just utterly bewildering.

“Just admit I’m right.”

“I won’t, because you’re not. It barely even qualifies as food!”

Auren, like the pedant that he was, looked at the box. “It has 15% daily requirements in vitamin A, calcium, 10% iron…”

“And 30% sodium! In one portion! The box is three! For fucks sake Auren you’re going to give yourself a heart attack! If you want mac and cheese that badly, I will make it for you. Why do you keep going back to the Kraft cr…”

“Because it’s the only thing on this planet that tastes familiar.” Auren said quietly, staring at the floor. “Other than you, it’s the only thing that tastes like home when the rain gets inside my head.”

Eamon sighed. “Fuck. Okay, gimme the box, at least I can keep it from burning to the bottom of the pan. And you’re gonna share. Okay?”

Auren nodded. He definitely didn’t step close enough for a hug on purpose. It was just a coincidence that they ended up cuddling in front of the stove.

[38. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” Note- Ares is Mute {...} indicates Sign.]

Ares placed her glass back on the table with a heavy clink. {Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.} She signed to the pair seated opposite.

“Me, or him?” Eamon asked with a grin and a raised eyebrow that Auren mimicked to the millisecond.

She smirked. {What’s the difference?}

“Does it matter?” Auren asked. They each had a hint of an accent other than American, but she couldn’t place either.

His foot had brushed her knee under the table. On the other side Eamon did the same.

{No. Not at all.}

Eamon looked around the bar of the Piett. There were a dozen assassins or more, waiting for the next commission. “Aren’t we all the bad guys here?”

“Still,” Auren added, “don’t we do it best?”

That was more like it. Ares grinned. {Show me.}

Send Me Drabble Prompts

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

Father's Day prompt- 'Galaxy's #1 Dad' mug

[Wow this got out of hand! Nonny please accept 2,008 words of kid fic. BB is the nonbinary child of Hux & Hux in Modern Emperors while JakJak is the dimension hopping monster son of Kylux from Laeti Vescimur Nos Subacturis & To Sleep, Perchance.]

JakJak liked this world. It was simple. Just humans, low tech, and - apart from the language - it was easy to navigate.

The language made no sense. He’d heard people speaking multiple tongues here while the trade language seemed to be Basic. But the writing didn’t tally up.

For example, his friend BB spoke Basic, though they called it English. They kept trying to teach him the letters, but the nature of his travel made it hard to follow. He didn’t always find himself here sequentially. He still wasn’t entirely sure how he moved between universes at all.  

Once, a few years ago to him but three months in the future for them, BB had shown him some weirdly two dimensional holos that they thought would explain matters. But the ‘movies’ had just confused him. He didn’t travel at 88 miles an hour. Nor was he a human-looking droid. He just went and there he was, nothing more to it.

He’d work it all out one day he knew, but right now he was more interested in learning about the places he visited and the things he saw.

Today they were out with the babysitter, not on any particular mission just ‘out of the house before they drove them out of their mind’.

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing with a hand that was mostly human right now.

BB rolled their eyes. They were the only child of the local rulers - two copies of his own father offset by a few years - and they never seemed to take his questions seriously.

“It’s a book shop.” They said, then continued when his expression didn’t change- “where you buy books. And all kinds of silly things because people don’t buy books any more.”

“What’s a book?”

Pinching the bridge of the nose and wearily closing golden eyelashes was such a father gesture that JakJak actually feared he’d get reprimanded. BB had insisted they weren’t a clone, but at times like this JakJak really didn’t believe them.

“Paper, with writing on it. To record and dis-trib-ute knowledge.”

“You sound just like father,” JakJak said. “Wow. I can’t believe you still have those, I’ve never seen one in real life. Papa has one but he’s says it’s full of ancient Sith secrets so we’re not allowed to see. I thought you had datapads?”

“Yes, but some people still like paper.”

“Huh.” JakJak crinkled his brow. “Why is the window all full of blue cards and balloons?”

“Oh.” They looked at the signs. “It must be Father’s Day soon. Dad says I ‘shouldn’t fill the house with junk’ but I know for a fact he’s kept every macaroni and paste picture I’ve made in my entire life, and I’m pretty sure he still has the travel mug Dad had made the year I was born. So I’ll still get something.”

JakJak could feel his frown deepening as it always did when BB talked about their fathers  as singular ‘Dad’. It was hard to follow which one they meant, though the few times he’d seen them he hadn’t been able to tell them apart either.

Except that one time at a picnic when they’d taken their shirts off to play some sport or other. JakJak had been surprised to see that one of them had almost the exact same shoulder scars as his own father, though he lacked the ones one his belly and back.

That had been disorientating. JakJak was used to seeing copies of his father in every universe, but until then he’d thought only his father and Papa Carolus had those scars. He’d wondered how many others had them too, but he’d yet to work out an unwierd way to ask.

“Your fathers set up a day just so that people would buy them gifts?” He asked, mildly appalled. “I thought Empire Day was bad, but at least that wasn’t father’s idea.”

BB shoved him none too gently. He had the strength to resist but that usually worried people, so he let himself fall into the wall instead.

“What?! No!” They cried. “It’s like a hundred year old holiday or something! People had been celebrating Mother’s Day for years and they decided to make a Father’s Day to balance it out. So everyone buys their parents gifts. Well. Not everyone. Some people have awful parents… Dad gets a lot of work on those holidays.”

For some reason BB’s fathers still laboured under the misapprehension that their child didn’t know they were assassins. Of course JakJak’s Papa Kylo killed people all the time, but he was the Emperor’s Lord Protector. For some reason that seemed more honourable than assassination.

JakJak didn’t say that though. Last time he’d said that outloud BB had pushed him into the Puget Sound. He hadn’t liked that.

“Oh. Okay.” That seemed safe.

“Hah! Look at this!” BB called excitedly from the window. “You should get two of these! Oh, I might get two for Dad too.”

He really hadn’t understood the sentence but JakJak dutifully peered at the object indicated by BB’s finger. It was a white mug with incomprehensible local scrawl across the side.

“Uh, what does it say?”

BB sighed and looked ready to tell him off when they suddenly stopped mid-breathe. “Oh. If you can’t read it then they won’t be able to either, will they?”

JakJak shook his head.

“I wonder if they sell any kits?” They said thoughtfully.

JakJak liked sitting at the table in Dex’ apartment. There was cookie jar in the shape of a cat in the middle, and Dex never complained about him eating them all. Or about serving him raw meat. That was nice. A lot of people didn’t like to handle it.

He liked this Dex. This Dex laughed a lot more than his own. But then this Dex still had their Mitaka. In his universe Papa Kylo had killed Mitaka by accident long before JakJak was even born. That was a strange thing to think about. It made his chest feel funny, so he stopped.

BB had spread paper all over the surface of the table and arranged the four mugs so they could show him how to use the kit.

“Write on the surface with the pens. If you go wrong wipe it off with the alcohol wipes. When we’re done Dex can put them in the oven to cure before Dad gets here to pick me up, when you have to go home.”

“Ok.” He nodded and picked up a purple coloured pen. “What should I write?”

“The mug I saw said ‘Galaxy’s Number 1 Dad’.” BB said, writing the words on the paper as they spoke. “I thought that was funny since you said your father was Galactic Emperor.”

At the sink Dex snorted but didn’t turn around. JakJak put his tongue out at them anyway. It was a very long tongue, and forked today, so he felt it made his point.

Writing on the shiny surface took a lot of concentration and it was only when he’d finished that JakJak realised he still had his tongue sticking out between his teeth. BB didn’t notice- they were too busy staring at his writing with their mouth open.

“That’s Basic?!” They asked, apparently stunned but something as simple as writing.

JakJak laughed. “No, the letters are called Aurebesh.”

“Oh my god, that’s what Dad writes in when he wants to make notes no one can read!��

The last part was a conspiratorial whisper, like it was some kind of secret Dex shouldn’t know about. JakJak didn’t really understand why.

“Can you show me how do it?” Now that would be easy.

The Emperor kept a clear desk. It was a point of pride. It was also a point of keeping his Force damned sanity in the face of a horribly complicated galaxy.

Which made the pair of white cylinders sitting in the middle of the desk a source of irritation.

Who the pfassk had dared to leave… oh.

They were mugs. Very primitive stoneware mugs, exactly the opposite of the opulence that surrounded them.

A child had written on them.

He picked up the closest mug.

One side read- ‘GALAxY’s #1 fATHeR’ while the other bore the words ‘JAkJAK LoVEs YoU’.

Hux stared at it in confusion.

The other was the same but read ‘PApA’ instead of father. No, not the same. The writing was raised. It seemed like multiple layers of paint had been applied so fingers could detect the words.

With slightly trembling hands Hux carried them gingerly through the palace, opening doors with his elbows, until he reached the nursery.

Alia was standing on a box next to JakJak’s crib and clinging to her blind father’s robes as the pair watched the infant sleep. He was almost a month old but it didn’t look like the novelty would wear off anytime soon.

“Kylo?” He whispered, desperate not to wake the child he’d only persuaded to sleep an hour ago. “I found these in my office. Any idea what it means?”

Kylo studied them for a moment, borrowing Hux’ eyes to see what his fingers and the Force couldn’t show him.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think it means we’re the best fathers in the Galaxy?” He said with a grin.

The stare Hux gave him should have caused him to combust on the spot, but he just let his grin widen.

“Who left them there?! I know it wasn’t Alia, her handwriting is much better than this!”

Without looking away from the baby their daughter gave a prim, “thank you!”

“The clue is on the mug, Bren. JakJak did this.”

“He’s only 27 days old!”

“And he saved me from Snoke a month after he was conceived!” Kylo snapped back. In his crib JakJak stirred. Kylo reduced his volume as he continued, “this is just the way he is. We always knew he was different. We should expect… different things.”

Yes, perhaps they should. But in the scheme of things, time travelling just to make sure they knew they were loved should not count as a cause for concern.

The bed shook at the sudden assault.

“We’re being boarded, all hands to battlestations!” A sleepy voice said from under its pillow.

“Dad!” BB squealed when the other man-shaped lump in the bed reared up to envelope her in the sheets.

“I’ve captured the interloper Lieutenant General Hair Dye, what shall I do with…”

There was more screaming as the other figure sat up and hurled its pillow at the first. “Lieutenant General Hair Dye! How dare you?!”

“DAD!!”

“I apologise, let us make peace and defeat the invader... with tickling!!”

“DAAAAD nooooooo….”

“What do you think Auren? No mercy?”

“Of course!”

It was another ten minutes, and one of their fathers literally falling out of the bed, before BB admitted defeat.

“I surrender! Also, your coffee is going cold!” That, at least, was enough to force Auren to accept the surrender while the coffee would still be drinkable.

BB sat on Eamon’s knee to watch as Auren reached for his own mug. He turned white when he saw the text, which was impressive for a man as pale as a Hux.

“Auren? Are you okay?” Eamon asked, concerned.

Auren’s weaker left hand was shaking and threatened to spill the beverage on the sheets.

“Did you write this, BB?”

They nodded. “Yes, Dad, I made one for both of you.”

Eamon glanced at the mug on his side of the bed. The writing on that one was in English, not the angular but oddly familiar text on Auren’s mug.

There was silence for a moment as Auren seemed to weigh his options. Finally he put the mug carefully back in its place and turned to hug them both.

“One day you’re going to tell me where you learned that, okay?”

BB didn’t entirely understand, but they knew enough to take the out when it was offered. “Of course, Dad, but I don’t think you’ll believe me.”

“No, no I think I will.”

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

Modern Emperors - it's not what it looks like

“It’s not what it looks like.”

Eamon paused half way down the stairs and contemplated all the many things that Auren might have done to warrant such a preemptive statement. He gives up after ten. It really is too wide a field to narrow down.

From here he can’t see any blood or bodies which is a relief- he’d really rather not play at home- though of course there could be something hidden by the kitchen counter… or in the fridge. Again. At least that had turned out to be half a pint of Auren’s own blood.

Still, what did… ah.

“So that’s not my laptop being dissected on the dining table then?” He said with not even slightly veiled displeasure. “Because that’s what it looks like.”

Auren’s hands hovered for a beat over what looked like the motherboard before moving on. “Would a laptop be a terrifyingly archaic piece of computational technology?”

“It’d be a $2,000 and only six months old piece of ‘computational technology’.” Eamon sighed.

“Ah, well, then it’s exactly what it looks like,” Auren said.

He finally turned to face Eamon his expression of pinched concentration melting to something like apologetic regret. It wasn’t very much like it but it was as close as their faces could get while still being sincere. “Nothing’s erased, but I needed to know what level of tech you have here. Is this really top of the line?”

As statements went it wasn’t all that reassuring but it would have to do. He had backups.

“No, it’s not.” Eamon said. Auren watched him a little warily as he completed his descent of the stairs to stand next it him. It was already all too easy to stand too close to him. He should be mad about the clutter of hardware but he’d rather just kiss Auren good morning. He wouldn’t, because that would be encouraging him, but he’d regret not doing it. “It’s just good enough for banking and streaming movies.”

Auren hummed thoughtfully and turned back to the mess. Despite his fingers sifting carefully through the parts the rest of his body was drifting toward leaning into Eamon’s space.

After a moment of reluctant hesitation Eamon side stepped. You’re still supposed to be mad, remember?

“Why, what did you think this looked like?”

“I was trying layouts that might be useful.” Auren explained. “This is based on the basic layout for an orbital targeting system.”

Eamon blinked. “In what universe would I possibly know what that looks like?”

“Mine.” It’s a small word, cold and lonely in a big empty reality where humans don’t travel beyond their solar system and everything is primitive and limiting.

Without replying Eamon steps back into his former position. Auren is chilled where they press side into side- boxers and tank are not nearly enough to keep him warm out of bed. Eamon is still sleep hot and doesn’t really notice himself instinctively wrap an arm around him to share.

“I have to point out that it was already useful- as a laptop.” He snarks to cover the awkward silence.

“It could be so much more though.”

“Why don’t I make us a coffee and you can talk me through it?”

“Okay. You’ll have to use the French press though.”

He manages to resist the urge to cover his eyes but it’s a close run thing. “What did you do?”

Send Me A Prompt & Pairing

[creepycreepyspacewizard]

Huxloween Day Eighteen: Resurrection

“I can’t believe I survived that,” Kylo said as he sat up awkwardly on the hard metal table. “I thought she’d killed me.”

Hux stood watching him with a strange expression. He looked as if he clenched his jaw any harder he was going to break his teeth.

It took a minute or two for Kylo to get his legs under control enough to swing them over the side of the bed, but when he did the sheet that had been draped across him fell away.

He frowned as he stared down at his naked body.

“How long was I out?” He asked. His fingers were exploring the bowcaster scar on his belly. It was pale and silvery, far more healed than he’d have expected for such a grizzly wound.

“Starkiller was destroyed eight hours ago.” Hux replied flatly.

“Did you put me in bacta?” Kylo asked, his hands were running over his chest and bicep, and then down to his thighs. “What kind of technology does the First Order have that you could heal me this quickly?!”

Hux said nothing as Kylo stumbled to his feet.

“Why am I in your quarters instead of medical?” He turned and moved awkwardly to the fresher. What he saw in the mirror there made no sense. “What… Why…”

He touched his face, prodding and pulling at the bruised half-healed flesh of his forehead and cheek. The wounds began to bleed again but he paid them no mind. 

His scars were all wrong.

“This isn’t wear she hit me!” He looked at his bicep again and then down at his chest. The lightsaber had hit his arm in a straight line, not this odd curling shape over his right pectoral muscle. “What the hell is going on?!”

“This is better.” Hux murmured from far too close.

As he turned to face Hux, who’d stepped silently into the bathroom behind him, he caught sight of the shower. And the thing slumped on the tiles, still slowly oozing into the drain.

“Is… is that… me?”

Hux watched him as he crouched down to stare at his own bloodless face. It stared back at him with blank dull eyes.

“You were dead in the snow when I found you,” Hux said. Kylo twisted round to face him, suddenly aware of the bloodstains up to his elbows and the manic look in his eyes. “Fortunate for me that I had a few spare. Snoke isn’t very forgiving of failure.”

“What did you do?!” Kylo asked. He felt sick but there was nothing in him to bring up.

Every time he looked down at himself he noticed something else that was wrong- the missing scars from the pins when he broke his foot at 14, the healed holes in nipples he’d never had pierced, the neatly trimmed body hair, the foreskin he had absolutely no memory of…

“What did you do?!”

Hux shrugged and walked back into the bedroom to close the closet door. For just a moment Kylo saw his own face staring blankly from beneath a mop of blond hair, and then it was gone.

“I saved you, Ren. Where’s your gratitude?”

Kylo snatched up the sheet laying on the floor and ran towards the door out of Hux’ quarters. He was so surprised to find it unlocked that he almost fell out in the empty corridor beyond.

“You can thank me later!” Hux called after him. “Don’t worry, that body is top of the line- it knows what to do, and it’ll come when I call.”

The laughter that rang off the metal walls as he dashed for the turbolifts made his blood run cold. 

He didn’t want to find out what Hux meant.

Huxloween @huxloween

[creepycreepyspacewizard]

Trope Mashup Kylux 15 and 27

15. Criminal AU & 27. Sick/Injured Fic 

“Kylo? Darling?”

The sickly sweet way Hux said his name already had Kylo’s hackles rising but he knew better than to ignore him. Even if Kylo wished it was otherwise, his boyfriend did always have the best plans.

“You know that movie you’ve made me watch eighteen times this month?” Hux went on when Kylo glanced at him. It was hard to see his face in the shadows but he seemed to be grinning despite the peevish tone. “The one with Hiddleston in it?”

Kylo frowned. “Ragnarok?”

“Yes, I think we should do the thing like that, its probably the only way to get close enough to the guards to stab them.”

“What thing?”

“’Get Help’.”

“You want to pretend you’re injured and then get thrown at them as a distraction?” Kylo asked. There was a stinging pain in his side before he’d even finished the sentence.

“No, darling,” Hux purred as he slipped an arm around Kylo’s waist and moved towards the gates. “You are injured, and when those nice men come to help I can cut their throats. Don’t worry, it’s just a flesh wound.”

Kylo really should get another boyfriend, but when half an hour later they were victorious and he had a cool new scar, he had to admit that Hux had all the best plans.

AU Combinations

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

Into The New Year

[Submission set in the Modern Emperors verse]

They both didn’t mind the cold, but Eamon even less so - the cold of space was blessedly free of wind and Auren tightened his jaw at another gust off the Sound. A small fire crackled at their feet as they relaxed into lounge chairs, dressed in their warmest coats and a blanket. Auren’s minute shivering had led Eamon to go inside and grab a knit hat, much to Auren’s chagrin. But a relaxed smile and a brush of fingertips on his cheek settled his wounded pride. He couldn’t hide anything from Eamon.

Choppy waves broke across the rocks of the beach, a lulling sound that Auren found to be quite comforting as he settled deeper into the warmth of his body. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath - frost, salt, and smoke. While Auren was becoming more acclimated to the smells of this planet, it never ceased to shock him with how organic it was. He quickly took a drink from his bottle, a dark chocolaty stout to overpower his senses. Nearly a lifetime of recycled air, filtered and treated with chemicals, had left him ill-prepared for planet-side excursions. He made a note to add this to the training regimen, he wouldn’t have his troops being bested by insurgents because of oxygen.

A soft rustle came from his left, Eamon taking a sip of his beer before heavily resting it on his knee, his thumb absently picking at the paper label.

There wouldn’t be a training regimen. He had no mission, no ship, no command, no troopers. He had his Likeness and this new world. What now?

Bright flashes across the water drew his attention. So small over this distance but still visible. Lights descending before a burst of colors at the top again. It was the ‘Space Needle’, although Auren still didn’t understand why it had that name. More small bursts of color decorated the sky, the sound of the explosions just starting to reach them as soft pops.

“Happy New Year, Auren.”

Eamon leaned over the arm of his chair and extended his bottle, Auren hesitating for a moment before returning the gesture, lightly cracking their glass against the other’s. Both men took a long pull of beer and watched the lights.

“Did you celebrate new years? Where you came from?”

Auren stared into the fire, “No. There are thousands of planets, all with different time-keeping. A year on one planet could be five on another. There was a Galactic Standard Time, for purposes of historical records, but even that was susceptible to the bias of the government in power.”

Eamon huffed a small laugh, “I suppose it’s easier here, then. Just one planet, only needing to be concerned about ourselves. Although, I’m not looking forward to the next month of accidentally writing the wrong year.”

“So, this is how you celebrate? Drinks, a commotion of lights and sound?”

Eamon shrugged, “Many people see the new year as a new start. To try to forget the pains of the last year and work towards a better one. Make promises, feel hopeful, enjoy life. Fireworks and liquor seems like a great way to start off on the right foot.”

The phrase seemed odd to Auren, but the message was clear. A fresh start. A new planet. A new goal. And it started right now.

Eamon sat up with a groan, “Alright, I admit defeat, I’m starting to get cold.” He stood and released the valve on a water hose, drowning the flames and ash. The darkness was nearly complete, the moon gone, and only the soft light from the house filtering over to them. Auren stood as well, swinging the blanket over his shoulders. But his steps towards the house were blocked by Eamon’s warm body.

With a tentative hand on the side of his neck, a thumb stroking his jaw, Eamon pressed a deep but gentle kiss to Auren’s lips. Their lips moved like the waves on the beach, pushing and pulling as their tongues lightly collided. With a tiny nip to Auren’s bottom lip, Eamon pulled back and Auren could only blink

“It’s custom to have a first kiss for the new year,” Eamon said.

A kiss just to be a kiss? “That seems awfully sentimental.”

“Perhaps,” Eamon replied with a smile. “But there are a lot more 'firsts’ to be discovered.”

The blood rushed so quickly from Auren’s brain, he was surprised he didn’t fall over. This kind of teasing, forwardness, want, it was new to him. To have such an equal that didn’t instinctively submit to him or forcibly press for some kind of control, it was exquisite. He was… himself.

This would be Auren’s fresh start. With Eamon at his side, an equal, their potential would be limitless. He just needed to make a plan.

“Are you coming?” Eamon’s voice broke him from his thoughts, his Likeness already standing at the doorway of the house, a mischievous smile on his face.

The planning could wait. He had better things to do first.

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

In tribute to Modern Emperors this is of course filled with espresso and caramel syrup. :D